Truthsome
by Guildsister
Summary: A small-scale smuggling job goes direly bad for Mal & Co., reviving old memories and leading to a night of confessions. Prequel to Blue Sun Job.
1. Chapter 1: Shadows

Truthsome, Part I: _Shadows _

Serenity chased the terminator around New Horizons for an orbit before grounding just ahead of sunset local time. With no real port available, the ship settled onto a flat valley out of sight of the settlement nestled in the hills a few klicks away.

"Looking good, looking good" Wash said as he flicked three switches overhead. Serenity purred into silence as her engines powered down. "No sign of any Alliance patrol ships--or any other ships, for that matter--on that whole orbit. Lookin' like we're all alone out here in the woods."

"Good," Mal said, scanning the low-lying hills through the cockpit windows. Scrubby trees already showed as black silhouettes in the growing twilight. No movement caught his eye. All appeared peaceful and still. He looked away from the treeline. "Zoe?" She halted her own study of the terrain, nodded briefly, then leaned to kiss her husband.

"Be careful," Wash called after them as they started out of the control room. Mal flicked a glance at Zoe; the message was clearly aimed solely at her.

"We will," he answered without expression.

"Always are," Mal added with a faint grin as he and Zoe strode down the passageway. River lounged in the doorway to the common area, staring at them wide-eyed. As sometimes was the case, she appeared not to really be seeing them.

"Careful, careful, careful," she chanted, moving up and down against the bulkhead in movements halfway between sensuous and innocently childlike. "Brown and red," she intoned, fixated by Mal's clothes. "Brown and red." He watched as her stare turned inward. "Brown and purple. Purple and red. And blue." River suddenly became entranced by the blue corridor wall. She caressed the wall, then angrily pounded her hand against it. "Blue, blue, blue..." she cried, slamming her hand into the wall.

"Easy there, child," Mal said, catching her hand so she didn't bruise it.

River whimpered and twisted in his grip, her eyes locking onto his. "Beware the blue," she whispered, pulling away.

"Why don't you get yourself on back there where the wall's aren't so peskily blue." He gestured toward the common room.

Suddenly complacent, River declared one more "Blue!" then danced away from them. Mal and Zoe eyed her without comment as they turned down the corridor to the stairway. An oddity weren't so odd when you saw it every day, Mal reflected.

"No, you aren't, sir," Zoe said, as they started down the stairs into the cargo bay. He looked a question at her. "You're not careful."

"I'm still alive, ain't I?" Mal retorted.

"Through no fault of your own, sir. And what River said sure sounded like a warning."

Mal rolled his eyes. "How the gorram hell can you tell? Girl's 'bout like having a watchdog what barks at his own shadow."

Zoe shrugged. "Don't mean the dog's shadow don't have no danger hiding in it."

River's madness was contagious, Mal thought as he stared at Zoe. Hell, they all had to be starkers one way or another, live like they was living. Always running. Always looking over their shoulders. Never able to trust a being save those on this boat. And--he glanced down at Jayne working at his weights--sometimes not even those. His eye drifted over to the preacher. The man's manner drew trust to him like flies to honey, but oh, those secrets... Those secrets always kept Mal working at that uncomfortable tickle of doubt.

"Cap'n!" Kaylee's chipper voice never did fail to perk up a soul, Mal thought fondly. Gal was a pure slice of sunshine in the Black, and no mistakin' it. "All set here, Cap'n," she said, closing the case on their cache of smuggled goods. It was a bit more than amusing that the whole of Serenity, with her cavernous cargo bay, was gone to a such a bitty load. Pay was pay, though, and it would be nice to have an easy run for once

Easy or no, Mal and Zoe both paused to check their weapons. "Set?" She nodded and picked up the case.

Jayne called, "Sure you don't need me to cover you?"

Mal shook his head. "Nah. We've dealt with Jacobs before. He's a stand-up fella. And this here is a pretty friendly town to our sort."

"What? Smugglers? Crooks?"

"Independents," Zoe said, pulling her brown duster over her guns.

With Zoe carrying the case, they started down the ramp into the growing darkness. "This way," Mal said, leading them off to a barely visible path through the woods. They strode easily, almost casually, yet in perfect sync with each other, checking for cover, or points of ambush, so naturally and without conscious thought that the routine of watching for potential danger was more soothing than stressful for them. As a team, on patrol or in action, they were in their element. They were partners.

They walked in silence for a good klick before Zoe spoke.

"Still... I wish she hadn't said 'purple.'"

Mal snorted. "Now you're a gorram mind reader. I was contemplatin' on that very thing."

Chuckling, Zoe said, "She probably was talking about her paintings. What with all those colors she named."

"Yeah," Mal agreed, wishing he believed it. "Paints. That's what it was."

They came out of the woods to the gentle slope overlooking the settlement. Halting in the shadows, they studied the quiet town. It was a typical town for a border moon. Bare wood buildings, none over two stories tall, with lantern light showing through a few windows, and powered lights in a few of the nicer houses. Stores clustered around a central square. A scattering of lights lit some street corners but far too few to really cut the darkness. A little technology would go a long ways here, Mal considered as he scrutinized the town. He nudged Zoe and pointed.

"That building. The warehouse there on the edge. That's where we make the drop" Zoe pulled out her duoscope and peered at the structure; then shifted to the nearby streets and buildings.

"Looks quiet," she said in a calm, bland tone that no one in the 'verse save Mal could have read for what it really was.

"Yes, indeedy," he agreed using the same tone. "Quiet as can be. Downright peaceable."

Lowering the scope, Zoe turned to Mal. "Think it's a trap?"

Sighing, Mal shook his head. "Don't see how it could be. Got no Alliance here abouts. Town was more than a tad Independent-friendly, Jacobs included. Mosta the folks ain't like to rat anyone to the Feds." He shrugged, not having convinced even himself much less Zoe. That twitch of unease kept begging to be scratched. He scanned the still, dark town again. "Right. So you stay back and cover me. I'll go in alone, make the deal. If it is a trap and I get pinched... well, I'll be countin' on you for a good old-fashioned jail break."

"Yes, sir," Zoe said, digging out her earwig. Mal hesitated before putting his in his ear, bouncing it in his hand. Wearing it could spook the client. Instead he dropped it in his front shirt pocket.

"Hear me?"

"Clear," she answered.

Their eyes met and held.

"All right, then," Mal said. He picked up the case and started down the slope toward the town.

* * *

Deep shadows were cast by the few lights in the center of the warehouse. Stacks of crates made for dozens of hiding places. Walking slowly in, Mal felt the crawlies between his shoulder blades that bespoke of being in someone's sites. Still and all, nothing appeared amiss. The warehouse was quiet. Easing his way cautiously in, Mal peered across the open space in the center to the shadows by the far door. A figure emerged. Right size and shape to be Jacobs. Mal took another step in toward the light.

"Jacobs?"

"You got the goods?" The voice sounded a bit muffled, but near enough to what Mal recollected Jacobs sounded like.

"You got the money?" Mal countered.

The two men approached the center of the warehouse. Mal stopped, setting the case down. His right hand hung easy, near his gun. Jacobs' face remained in shadow a moment more, then he stepped forward into the light.

"Oh, gorramit!" Mal hissed as the shiny star on the man's chest caught the light. His hand went to his gun in a swift, instinctive move.

Mal froze.

Behind him and to the sides came the unmistakable sound of guns cocking--lots of them. Mal counted six, pinpointing them by the sounds. They could take him out before his barrel cleared leather. Mal calculated the situation in an instant--River couldn't have done the math quicker.

Easing his hand off the grip of his gun, Mal took care not to make even a hint of a sudden move.

"Sheriff," Mal said aloud, for the benefit of listening Zoe. He trusted her not to burst in shooting... well, for the most part. Hopefully. Didn't want a whole bunch of dead townsfolk. Or a dead captain. There were a whole helluva lot of guns trained on him. "No need for shooting," he added, also more for Zoe's ear than the sheriff's. "I give up." He raised his hands.

"Got us a smuggler," the sheriff said, approaching Mal. Taking measure of the man, Mal knew he was looking at a trained fighter, not just a local chump who got hisself elected sheriff on account of being the only man about who could knock a can off a fence. The sheriff never once broke eye contact with Mal as he came toward him; never once looked away, not even for a flick of a glance as his men came out of the shadows. This sheriff knew, as Mal did, that it was in a man's eyes you'd first see he was going for his gun.

"No smuggling, sheriff. Just an honest business deal between folks." At least Mal thought he sounded convincing. The rest didn't seem impressed. Two men were close up behind him now, flanking him. Out of the corner of his eye, Mal could see their guns never wavered a hair. Well trained. As one pulled Mal's gun out of its holster, he wondered idly if he and these fellows had been in any campaigns together back in the war.

"What have we here?" The new voice from the doorway behind the sheriff caused everyone to twitch. The clatter of boots and equipment, a sound he knew far too well from the darkest shadows of his memories, chilled Mal's blood even more than the sudden sight of so many purple uniforms flooding into the warehouse.

"Go-se. Zoe, get the ship outta here," Mal whispered urgently. Then louder, in case she hadn't heard, "Feds."


	2. Chapter 2: Blood

Truthsome, Part II: _Blood _

The sheriff stood still, a peculiar look on his face, as the Alliance lieutenant strode up to his side. Mal couldn't quite get a fix on how surprised--or not--the sheriff was at the Fed's presence. Two brawny purple clad drones replaced the local fellows who'd been flanking Mal. They seemed annoyed by the intrusion, muttering among themselves as they lowered their weapons and backed away. Seizing hold of Mal's arms, those fine Alliance lads roughly twisted them behind his back. Mal winced as the hwoon dahn Fed tightened the cuffs down on his wrists a notch further than necessary.

Shifting his attention to the officer, Mal didn't bother to hide his contempt as he glared at him. The feeling was clearly mutual as the Fed stepped forward to stand face to face with Mal. The officer looked him up and down, taking in the red shirt, tan trousers with the stripe down the side, and the brown coat. Mal knew exactly what the Fed was seeing as he looked at him; it was an Independent's uniform, unabashed and unrepentant, lacking only the insignia. And Mal saw a Fed lieutenant of an age to have been one of the terrified young pups being slaughtered by the thousands in the war. This one survived the fighting but not the military order that wouldn't let him rise through the ranks with no war to kill off the higher-ups. Now he was stuck on a backwater moon snaring low level smugglers. That was a recipe for a bitter and dangerous foe. When the Fed's eyes came back up to meet Mal's, they held an unblinking stare for a long moment. Without words, a perfect understanding passed between the two men--pure, undiluted hatred.

"Tah ma de Independent," the lieutenant growled, pulling back his fist. Mal saw the blow coming and tried to go with it but the guards held him solidly until the punch landed, then let him go. Mal crashed to the floor, unable to catch himself with his hands cuffed behind his back. Their timing was perfect, he thought bitterly, wondering how many other prisoners they'd practiced the move on.

The guards hauled him back to his feet. Mal flexed his jaw, feeling a hot trickle of blood run down his chin. Glancing at the sheriff, Mal read unmistakable anger in the man's eyes.

"This man is in my custody, lieutenant," the sheriff said, not managing to keep the polite deference in his voice that the mighty Alliance demanded of its peons. "We're charging him with a local crime--avoiding tariff--there's nothing here for the Alliance to be involved in."

Avoiding tariff? That was a nothing crime, Mal thought, looking sharply at the sheriff, really nothing more than an excuse for the local law to fine smugglers without actually putting them out of business. They usually didn't even confiscate the goods, or the payment, just charged a hefty fine and sent everyone on their way. Mal's felt a vague twitch of optimism--the goods weren't Alliance property. Kaylee had examined each piece and found no markings. Be hard to even prove they were stolen at all.

The Alliance lieutenant ignored the sheriff, gesturing one of his subordinates to the case of smuggled goods. The Fed knelt and undid the latches, opening the lid. Inside, nestled in foam packing, were a series of circuit boards of various configurations. He pulled one out, tilting it toward the light. Pulling out a small tool, he pried up one of the components, turned it over and scraped some paint off of it. Holding it out, he showed it to the lieutenant. Mal tried to lean forward to see but was jerked back by the guards.

Taking the component, the Fed showed it to the sheriff, scraping off a bit more paint with his fingernail to reveal a marking underneath. "Blue Sun logo imprinted," he said coldly. "They contract with the government and therefore fall under Alliance jurisdiction." Mal's heart sank. The Fed faced him again, continuing, "You're bound by law on charges of theft, smuggling, resisting arrest..."

"Resisting arrest! My gorram hands were already up when you got here." The hulking purple-belly who had a hold of Mal's left arm jerked the chain of the cuffs down hard, digging the steel painfully into his wrists. "Ow."

"...assaulting an officer..." Mal opened his mouth to object again, then thought better of it.. "...and no doubt other charges to follow." The Fed turned to the sheriff. "We'll be holding him in your jail until he can be transferred to an Alliance facility."

Uncomfortable recollections of other Alliance facilities came unbidden to mind. This was just not turning out to be a good day, Mal thought darkly as the guards dragged him away.

* * *

Zoe had been on the verge of bursting in shooting in a damn heroic rescue when Mal clearly told her not to via the earwig transmitter. Instead she maneuvered across the rooftop of a neighboring building until she could get a view in a high window in the side of the warehouse. Flat on her belly on the roof, she peered down the sites on her rifle, evaluating her options. She had a clean shot on the sheriff, and probably could have taken out the other two on either side of Mal, but his message suggested there were more guns covering him that she couldn't see. He was right, anyhow. Better to lose the cargo and the payment than to shoot up a bunch of citizens in an otherwise friendly town. That was a rep they didn't want to get. Unless Mal could talk his way out of it--a vanishingly low probability of that--a jail break it would be.

Lowering her rifle, Zoe watched until a sound straight out of her nightmares grabbed her attention. Something about the way Alliance soldiers slung their gear made a signature noise that damn near froze the blood in her veins. Her eyes narrowed as she peered into the dark at the Feds pouring into the warehouse from both sides Mal's message came to her ear clearly, as did the twinge of fear in his voice. Few things truly scared the captain, but two, she knew well, certainly did. One fear was of being trapped in Alliance custody. The other was of losing the ship.

Quiet as a shadow, Zoe slipped back into the night, easing her way unseen out of the town. She hit the trail into the woods at a run, digging in her pocket for her comm.

"Wash!" she called into it. "Wash, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, hon..." came the reply. Zoe cut him off before he could say more.

"Fire up the ship. We're running." She tried to speed her pace through the pitch black woods. Raising the comm again, Zoe added, "And burn out the captain's transmitter. Fry it."

Wash didn't acknowledge verbally, just with a quick double click of the mic told her he'd heard and was complying. She could hear Serenity's engines starting to whine ahead of her. In her mind's eye she could see her husband throwing switches and calling Kaylee and the others to ready an emergency liftoff. When her mental image of his movements reached the point where he could spare a second his voice crackled out of the speaker. "Got it," he said sharply. "Set to lift."

Jayne stood with full arsenal at the ready as Zoe hit the ramp on a dead run. Slapping the airlock controls on her way by, Zoe yelled into her comm, "Wash. Go."

"Where's Mal?" Jayne called as Zoe ran past. Shepherd Book followed her with a questioning expression.

"Feds got him," she snapped as she took the stairs to the bridge three at a time.

Serenity was off the ground and blasting toward space by the time Zoe reached the bridge.

Wash spared a glance over his shoulder. "What's going on?"

She punched at the controls on the co-pilot's side of the cockpit, trying to call up sensor displays. Book gently nudged her aside, working the controls with practiced ease. Seeing he knew her intent, Zoe straightened, throwing a worried look at her husband.

"It was an Alliance ambush. The Feds have the captain."

Jayne cussed quietly, but with vivid imagery, behind her. Book threw Zoe a solemn glance, then continued working the displays.

"Wash. Have there been any ships? Or transmissions you intercepted?" Zoe asked.

"No, not a thing. I was monitoring all bands, which wasn't hard. Not the most high tech world down there, not much traffic on any band," Wash said. "And I'm still not picking up any ship anywhere near abouts, grounded or flying."

Fingering her holstered gun, Zoe stared out the bridge windows as Serenity broke atmo, working the problem. "So they were a detached squad with comm silence. Maybe--probably--a general trap to catch any smugglers who happen by. But just maybe one aimed at us."

"You're thinking about our fugies, ain't ya?" Jayne growled.

Zoe nodded. "Either way, the captain's in a bad spot. They got him dead to rights on smuggling. And once they ident him, they can add all the charges in the 'verse they want, once they backtrack our trail and start adding things up."

"I'd assume Mal had a fake ident with him, didn't he?" Simon's voice came from behind her. Zoe turned. The doctor and Kaylee stood in the doorway with River behind them. The girl looked distraught but quiet.

"Wouldn't hold up," Zoe said. "Not with the Feds. Alliance can I.D. Mal--or me--six ways from Sunday once they connect to the central databases."

"They haven't."

"Huh?" Zoe turned toward Book. He straightened up.

"They haven't. Communication blackout must be part of the trap, and they haven't sent anything yet. No ship down there, so they have to call in a cruiser or transport. They haven't. Not yet at least. And if we move fast enough, they may not be able to."

Zoe looked him straight in the eye. "Talk to me preacher. What can you do?"

Without his moving a muscle, Zoe watched the shepherd step into a commanding pose. Who the hell was this man, she wondered, not for the first time, and thank the heavens he was on their side.

"Wash, Kaylee... am I right that a Firefly can generate an ionizing effect if we burn just right in the upper atmosphere?"

They both stared at him. Zoe could see their mental gears turning. Wash's lips moved in silent calculation. He looked sharply at Kaylee. The gears clicked.

"I'm on it," Kaylee called as she ran back toward the engine room.

Rapidly throwing switches, Wash changed Serenity's course, aiming them back toward the planet.

"What are you figuring, Shepherd?" Zoe asked.

"We ionize the upper atmosphere over the area of the town. It's like an aurora--virtually indistinguishable from the real thing. Disrupts communications. Should block the Fed's signal to their ship."

"How long that buy us?"

Book shook his head. "Hours. Maybe a day. The effect fades over time."

"Enough time to get the captain out, maybe." Zoe sighed heavily. None of the options were good. "I hate like hell the idea of getting into a fire fight with a squad of Alliance troops."

Surprise registered on Book's face. "You've fought them before."

Zoe gave a small, frustrated laugh. "That was war, Preacher. It's over and they got the upper hand. The way upper hand. We spill their blood now and we put the lives of everyone on this boat in perpetual peril. They'll chase us from here to Hades. And if we fail the rescue, instead of locking Mal up for the next twenty years they'll just hang him."

Book frowned and looked away. "I suspect he'd prefer that," he said, low.

Glumly, Zoe nodded. "I don't aim for either one to happen. Just gotta work the problem. Find a way around it."

Serenity skimmed the atmosphere, her tail lit with gold. Behind her, a ghostly spectrum danced over the planet.

Smugly pleased, Wash spun his seat to face Zoe and Book. "Made ourselves an aurora. Must be a pretty sight from the ground."

Zoe swallowed. "Well, let's take a look, then. Put us down a safe distance out from that town and let's do some recon."

* * *

The jail was border world standard issue. The sheriff had a desk in a small, cluttered office facing a large barred cell, probably usually used as the drunk tank. Mal thought he caught a glimpse of Jacobs, looking substantially the worse for wear, in one of the smaller cells off down the short corridor, but one of the soldiers shut the door to the corridor, cutting off his view.

Being rougher than necessary, the guards jerked Mal to a halt before the sheriff's desk. Seating himself behind his desk, the sheriff aimlessly shuffled papers, looking gloomy while the Fed's searched Mal.

The pat-down cost him his gunbelt, a knife, and the earwig transmitter. They latched onto that with keen interest, immediately trying to trace its signal. Mal didn't worry. He had felt the pop as the circuits were fused--it wouldn't lead the Feds back to Serenity. The handheld scanner the soldier ran over him cost Mal everything else, including some of his more esoteric accessories--the kind that opened locks and overrode electronics. The Feds managed to strip him bare without removing a stitch of his clothing or the cuffs still biting into his wrists.

As the lieutenant's aid approached Mal, two of the guards seized him tightly. It wasn't needful. Mal knew good and well there was no way to resist what was coming next. He didn't even blink as the retinal scanner flashed in his eye, nor flinch as a blood sample for DNA identification was taken from his arm.

"Run those right away," the lieutenant ordered. He glanced at Mal coldly. "We'll soon know who and what you are."

"I'm nobody, lieutenant. Just a businessman a tad unclear on the local tariff laws. Glad to pay my fine to the sheriff here and be on my way."

The lieutenant laughed shortly; gestured to his men. "Lock him up. And post a double guard."

As they hustled Mal into the cell, he braced his feet and held back. "You gonna take the cuffs off?" he asked the lieutenant.

The guards hesitated until their commander gestured them forward. Stirring from his papers, the sheriff stood. Again, Mal saw poorly concealed anger on his face.

"Wait," the sheriff said, approaching. He took hold of Mal's arm and held out his hand to the guard for the key to the cuffs. "This is still my jail and my jurisdiction."

"Fine," the lieutenant snapped. "But if he escapes you'll be taking his place."

The sheriff said nothing, but unlocked the cuffs, gave Mal a shove into the cell and locked the door. Mal perused the cell. Primitive iron bars and an ancient electronic lock on the door. Still, escape seemed unlikely, what with the two guards posted on opposite sides of the jail, looking very much like they just wished he'd tried something so they could shoot him.

Letting out a long, sighing breath, Mal sat down on the wooden bench and leaned back. Not a good day. He rubbed his sore wrists, then wiped at the blood on his chin with his shirt sleeve. Not the worst day he'd ever known, but definitely not the best.

* * *

"We have to get the captain before he's transferred to an Alliance ship. They get him on one of their transports or cruisers and we won't get him back," Zoe explained to the crew gathered in the dining room. "We have to go in and get him out now. But first we need to know the situation we're facing.

"So we need someone to go in for recon who won't ident easy, or trip all sorts of alarms, and give them a clear connection to Serenity and the captain if the Feds manage to grab 'em and do a retinal scan. An innocent, low profile. That, of course, leaves out River and Simon. And me. Wash…"

"Pilot's license. Lots of I. D."

"…Jayne?"

"Yeah, cuz I don't have any kinda record with the law."

Zoe shook her head. "Inara?"

"The word "registered" is part of my job title."

Zoe turned toward the Shepherd who merely gave a slight shake of his head. Right. His ident might do all sorts of interesting things for them in the right circumstances, but a low profile, pretty much not.

"And that leaves…"

Kaylee's eyes went wide. "But, but," she stuttered. "I can't do recon. I'm not a soldier or anything. I'm not nobody."

Gently, Zoe knelt before her, taking hold of Kaylee's hands. "That's just the point, dear. You've got the cleanest background of anyone here. Prairie girl from a world without much Alliance presence. And, well, I really think you can charm your way into some fine info from that sheriff. You got a knack for sweetness."

"I gotta talk to the sheriff too? Not just look around and count heads?"

Zoe nodded. "More than that. I need you to get the sheriff to come out and talk to me. Alone. And not in a mood to be trying to arrest me. Think you can do that?"

Kaylee whimpered. "No."

* * *

"His ship's gone. We found where it was down."

"Where's your ship? Where's it gone?" the lieutenant snapped at Mal.

Smiling blandly, Mal said, "What ship? I walked here." He was starting to enjoy the lieutenant's annoyance. First it had been the fried earwig transmitter, with the burned out circuits still freshly hot ("That old thing, hasn't worked in years. Forgot I had it on me."). Then they'd been frustrated to the point of screaming at each other over the comm interference that wouldn't let them call their ship or connect to the Cortex. Now, Mal didn't know for sure that was an act of Serenity, or an act of God, but it pleased him either way.

"Gorramit! What is going on here?" the lieutenant shouted at his aid as the flustered man again protested that he couldn't get any signals in or out. The lieutenant stormed out followed by his entourage. Only the two Fed guards, the sheriff, and Mal remained. Mal was certain he saw the sheriff's lips twitch in a smile behind his newspaper.

Mal stood, needing to pace, and test the limits of the cell, but not willing to show even that small level of unease in the Fed's presence.

"Don't touch the lock," the sheriff called, not looking up from his paper. "The charge is enough to knock you out."

Mal pulled his hand back, the hair on the back still standing up, tingling. "Yeah, I can feel it from here." He moved away from the door and leaned against the bars, studying the sheriff and his office. "Must get the drunks real quieted down when they hit that," he said conversationally, hoping to engage the sheriff. He desperately needed an ally and the sheriff was the only candidate available. Mal was, however, keenly aware of the two guards. They were doing tedium-of-guard-duty blank stares, but still would be listening. He couldn't say anything too overt.

"That Alliance lieutenant's starting to get a mite frustrated, it seems," Mal continued, keeping his tone mild. "Be my guess, he's gonna want to start interrogating me pretty soon, and not much minding with niceties like questions and answers." The sheriff looked at Mal, puzzled at the direction this was going. Mal held his eye. "I've been interrogated by pissed off Feds before. Didn't much care for it." He let that thought hang, letting the sheriff fill in the blanks as to what he meant.

Mal shifted his attention to the back corner of the office, behind the dusty Alliance flag, a corner of another banner showed. Mal recognized it. "Yeah, it was a few years back" Mal said, pointedly eyeing the banner, "Shortly after Hera."

That got a reaction. The sheriff put the newspaper down on the desk and sat up. He seemed on the verge of saying something, then his eyes flicked significantly toward the two guards. He stayed silent, but Mal saw him swallow hard.

Mal again rubbed the red marks the too-tight cuffs had left and had just decided what he'd say next when the door to the office opened and a truly frightening sight distracted him.

Kaylee appeared as she had when Mal first met her, save that her dress was on and all the way zipped up. He clenched the bars, wanting to tell her to run, but forced himself to relax and give her no particular notice. In an instant, he knew Zoe's intent in sending Kaylee in, but he still didn't like the idea of the girl coming into this kind of peril on his account. The notion of her being manhandled by some hwoon dahn Feds stuck in his craw.

Smiling sweetly, Kaylee didn't even give Mal a glance as she bounced up to the sheriff. Leaning over the sheriff's desk, she exuded just the right combination of innocence and sexuality.

"Howdy, sheriff. I do hope you remember me. Me and my ma live out on the outskirts. We're having some powerful odd problems with our baby geese and I was hoping you could come with me and take a look," Kaylee said. Mal thought she hit the 'come with me' a touch too hard, but it wasn't a bad delivery.

"Problems with baby geese?" The sheriff was plainly puzzled, and just as plainly didn't know Kaylee. In a town this size, the sheriff probably knew everyone by sight.

"Yeah, sheriff," Kaylee said. "Someone's… uh, juggling them."

That couldn't have been more lame, Mal thought. Then Kaylee glanced at him, and back to the sheriff. The sheriff caught the quick move and stared at Mal with narrowed, appraising eyes. Mal returned the look steadily, willing the sheriff to understand.

"Well, now, miss," he said slowly, still looking at Mal, "that is powerful odd. Can't let that sort of thing be going on in my town." He turned, smiling at Kaylee, and held out his arm for her to take.

Kaylee, bless her heart, didn't even seem to see Mal on her way out. Good girl, he thought. Maybe, just maybe, they could get out of this without the shedding of blood.


	3. Chapter 3: Confessions

Truthsome, Part III: _Confessions _

Zoe watched from the shadows as Kaylee led the sheriff to the place she'd instructed. Zoe, of course, wasn't in the spot she'd told Kaylee she'd be, but near enough to suss out the situation before stepping into anything. Jayne covered her, and he _would _burst in shooting if anything went awry, regardless of the delicacies involved with dead citizens, sheriffs, or Feds.

Kaylee had quite gotten over her fear, it seemed, still holding to the sheriff's arm, a bounce in her walk as she chatted on about some gadget or other. The town dynamo, maybe, something about how to modify it to produce more power.

"Well, this is it," Kaylee said, stepping away from the sheriff, looking around for Zoe. The sheriff warily scanned the area. After watching a moment more, Zoe stepped out from the shadows.

"Sheriff," she said quietly. He turned toward her. His hand hung near his gun, but he made no move for it. Zoe held her carbine in hand at her side. "I'm hoping to have a word."

They faced with measured wariness. He flicked a glance skyward at the faint, dancing shimmers in the sky. "Nice aurora. Rare here. Your doing?" Zoe gave a half-smile of acknowledgment.

"You got my captain. I want him back."

"Feds got your captain. What do you think I can do about it?"

Zoe took a deep breath and stepped closer to the sheriff. "I gotta get the captain out. Now. Tonight. I can not--will not--let the Alliance take him. Not if I have to bleed the life out of every Fed on this world. And I direly don't want to do that. I need your help."

"Your captain broke the law I'm sworn to uphold. You expect me to ignore my oath of office?"

"And the Alliance stepped all over your law and your office. The captain's lost enough to them. I ain't gonna let the Alliance take his freedom. Or his life."

The sheriff studied her probingly. She met his look evenly. "You were in the war?" he asked. Zoe nodded. "Independent?" She nodded again. "And your captain?"

"Both of us. Fought together through the most of it."

Watching the sheriff closely, Zoe knew he was chewing on something inside himself, something deep and intense. Impatient though she was for decision and action, she forced herself to patience; let him work it through.

Finally he said, not as a question but a quiet statement of fact, "You were at Hera. Serenity Valley. You and your captain. Survived it. Taken prisoner by the Alliance." Zoe's eyes narrowed speculatively. Mal must have said something to the sheriff, been working on him, too. The sheriff's gaze turned deep inward to the dark something gnawing at him.

"Were you there too?" she asked very softly.

He didn't answer. "And what were you? There? Then?"

"I was a private," Zoe answered. "He was my sergeant." She paused, then added, "Now he's my captain."

They stare between them stretched on for a solid minute or more as the sheriff weighed his decision. He could go either way, Zoe saw. She was asking a tremendous lot from him and knew it. Then Kaylee—bless her heart--chirped in with the tie-breaker.

"He's my captain, too."

* * *

Mal paced, watching, listening, alert for any opening, any opportunity. It was, well, it was something to pass the time at least. He was absolutely stuck and he knew it gorram well. The two Alliance guards never moved an inch from their posts, never wavered. Mal had even tried talking to them, hoping to draw one close enough to the bars to make a grab for his weapon. Friendly comments, insults, didn't matter. They'd roundly ignored him. 

The guards stiffened to alert when the office door swung open, relaxing when two of the sheriff's men strode in, talking casually between themselves about some pretty little filly. The deputies didn't give the Alliance guards even a glance.

Until.

Mal jerked, taken by surprise at the sudden, efficient violence. The deputies spun back to back. Drew their guns. Dropped the two Feds in a blindingly fast, coordinated move. The bodies slumped to the floor with puzzled expressions and perfect holes in their faces just below the rims of their helmets.

"Tsao gao," Mal murmured, backing up slowly. This was an unexpected development. He couldn't figure if it was good or bad. The two deputies turned toward him, training their guns on him. Okay, it looked bad. Easing his hands up, Mal considered his options. It didn't take long. He had none. The half-assed notion that he could dodge the bullet, get himself knocked out by the charge on the door lock, and fake being dead came to mind for a split, followed immediately by the image of River laughing at the math in that scenario.

One of the deputies holstered his gun, unlocked the cell and opened the door. "Out," he ordered curtly, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. Mal stepped out of the cell, keeping one eye on the gun barrel pointed unwaveringly at him. "Stick out your hands." Mal obediently held his hands out in front of him. The deputy clamped the cuffs down snug, but not too tight. Unlike the Fed, there was no maliciousness in the deputy's action.

What the gorram hell was going on, Mal wondered as the deputies led him out into the night. Crackling sounds in the distance caused Mal to duck down in an ingrained move so automatic he couldn't have stopped it if he'd wanted to. The deputies reacted a touch more slowly. Mal considered it a point of interest that the deputies seemed to take note of that. They acted like trained military men yet they didn't seem to react promptly to the unmistakable sound of a firefight. An odd situation took shape as the deputies chose the route but their prisoner guided them from cover position to cover position.

Mal was a mass of confliction as they neared the battle. He hoped like hell this was part of the plan to get him free of this situation. But he also hoped it wasn't Serenity's crew exchanging lead with the Alliance garrison.

The center of the fight was a large, posh house at the far edge of the town. It stood apart from the other buildings, surrounded by a fence. Muzzle flashes sporadically lit some of the windows. Mal marked them in his mind, number of guns, type, and rate of fire. One good thing--it wasn't the Serenity crew holed up in that house. They didn't have those types of guns. A small explosion lit the area briefly, illuminating the sheriff where he crouched behind the fence, peeking out at the structure.

With the deputies, Mal dropped to the ground by the sheriff. With a jerk of his head, the sheriff dismissed the deputies. They worked their way along the fenceline to take up positions nearby.

Coolly, the sheriff turned his attention to Mal. "This all is your doing, you know," he said.

Mal opened his mouth. Closed it. Reconsidered. Then said, "Being as I appear to be the only one hereabouts without a gun in hand, I'm have a hard time seeing your logic."

"You're the gorram fool who walked into an Alliance ambush. That drug me in, trying to preemptively arrest you just to keep you out of the tamade Feds' hands."

Mal gave a short laugh. "So you pinched me just to one-up the Feds? I like that."

The sheriff scowled. "T'ain't no laughing matter. Jacobs--your contact--was a friend. I turned the blind eye to most of his dealings. Then the Feds moved in with this sting operation of theirs. Now Jacobs looks not to live 'til the morning." Mal swallowed. So that was Jacobs he'd caught a glimpse of in that cell. "And now I'm fighting the battle of New Horizons," the sheriff went on. "Seven odd years late, but finally being fought."

Mal stayed silent, watching the sheriff. Something more was going on here than the sheriff springing a smuggler from the Feds. It was something to do with Jacobs, beat near to death, and the sheriff, and--somehow--Mal.

"I was an Independent," the sheriff said. "I know you figured that. Saw that banner in my office."

"Hera. Serenity Valley," Mal said. "It was from one of our units."

The sheriff's look became distant. "Wasn't mine. I was stationed right here the whole war. Me and most of my deputies. Tiny outpost on a nothing world. They didn't even bother with us until the very end. Alliance swarmed over New Horizons and we went down without firing a shot." He looked at Mal. "That banner belonged to my boy, my only son. He was at Serenity Valley too."

"He die there?"

The sheriff sighed heavily. "Not such as I heard it. Never did get a clear story. Heard that he survived the slaughter, and the aftermath, but died inside a week as an Alliance prisoner… during an interrogation."

Mal closed his eyes. "I didn't..." he started.

"You were playing me in there," the sheriff said coldly.

"Yeah, I was," Mal said evenly. "But not like that. I didn't know about your boy. I was just aiming to get out of my own fix. I've been in the hands of those sumbitches before and would do damn near anything not to be again."

"What you were saying--or implying--about those interrogations then... that the truth?"

Mal shook his head, then nodded. "They were rough, no denying. But there was lot of ways to die there and then. There's no knowing."

"Well, I saw what that Fed lieutenant did to Jacobs, so I guess true-enough is good-enough."

A bullet clipped the fence over their heads. Both ducked a bit lower but otherwise ignored the violence going on around them.

Mal studied the sheriff a minute more, then asked, "So, you gonna let me go?" He gestured with his hands, giving the chain between them a short jerk.

The sheriff's expression wasn't warm or friendly, but he pulled out a key to the cuffs and tossed it to Mal.

"I'm keeping your cargo. Consider it your fine. Now, get out of here and don't come back."

Quickly unlocking the cuffs, he dropped them in the dirt. He made no move to leave. "Sheriff. The Fed's got I.D. on me. I get connected to this…" he swept his arm to take in the battle scene.

"Everything they got is in that house. We'll take it and make sure to destroy it all. They won't have your name or anything else. You'll be in the clear."

"You want us to help? I got some good fighters on my crew."

The sheriff chuckled. "You got a powerful odd crew."

Mal didn't know which of his crew the sheriff had encountered but decided it didn't much affect the truth of the statement no how. "That I do."

"No, sergeant. You keep your people out of it. This is our fight now. In a way it always was. Just took its time a happening." The sheriff gestured. "Head off that way. One of yours is waiting over there."

A terse nod. Mal paused. "Top left window there." He pointed. "Take that one out quick as you can. He's got a sniper rifle and knows how to use it." Mal brought his hand up in a salute, held it. The sheriff looked at him, then returned it. Mal turned to go. Another bullet took a notch out of the fence by their heads.

The sheriff stopped him with, "Though… a little air support would not go amiss."

"Ain't that just the common truth. But my boat's got no guns."

"It's got jets."

They held a long, communicative look.

"Keep your men back. A good hundred yards."

"And captain…" the sheriff said. Mal paused. "Tell that lil gal geese juggling is a felony here."

Bending low, Mal ran off into the night.

* * *

"Good to see you, sir," Zoe greeted him blandly as he and Jayne raced up Serenity's ramp. It raised even as they ran up into the cargo bay. The engines were hot and Serenity was ready for immediate lift. 

"Nice to be home," Mal said mildly, then yelled, "Kaylee!"

She beamed and bounced. "Cap'n!"

"Got a thing for you to do."

* * *

The red bloom of flame from a burning structure was visible in the planet's night as Serenity climbed toward space and into an orbital sunrise. 

Kaylee looked at it disapprovingly. "You know, cap'n," she favored him with a stern scowl, "it ain't good for Serenity's engines to run raw fuel out 'em like that."

Chuckling, Mal gave her a fond hug. "I'll bear that in mind." He turned to the pilot. "Wash. Take us out. Anywhere but here."

* * *

Supper, breakfast… it was hard to say. By Serenity time it was after midnight, but this night had been far longer than most. Now they were back in the Black and the night could stretch on as long as they chose. 

Dishes cleared away, everyone leaned back, relaxing with cups of coffee, no one seeming inclined to rush away, enjoying the decompression of tension and troubles. Wash and Kaylee were bantering about those stupid geese again. Zoe just rolled her eyes and tuned them out.

Mal toyed with his cup absently, staring unseeingly into the table. Zoe knew where his thoughts were, but wasn't about to probe them. Things happened, and things were said, on that planet that struck him deeply. They didn't talk about such things between them. Ever. There was no need. They'd both been there, lived it. Knew what had happened and the scars it had left. One look between them said more than all the words in the 'verse ever could. Things she could never share even with her husband passed without a word between her and Mal.

No, it was for the others that words were sometimes needful. And it was for Simon to blunder into the painful probing with his guileless, unintentionally harsh, questions.

"So, that sheriff lost a son at Serenity Valley. You've told me about it," Simon said to Zoe, "how awful it was--the fighting, and after, before the Alliance med ships arrived. I guess I have to assume the son was too badly wounded for them to save…"

Mal's chair scraped the floor harshly. He stood and went into the kitchen without looking at any of them. Zoe could read his expression--dark and dangerous--but Simon still tended to be a bit oblivious, or just had his own strange way of playing with danger.

Maybe not totally oblivious. Simon was watching the captain as he stumbled onward, "I… I know their medical facilities are first rate, so usually if they got to someone in time..."

Mal set the coffee pot down far harder than necessary. Simon jumped at the bang.

"All what the Alliance done to your sister, and to you, and you still cling onto some strange fuzzy notions about them and their ways," Mal said. Zoe noticed how tightly he was holding the cup. "What all do you think the Alliance did with us after that battle?"

It wasn't a rhetorical question. Mal was genuinely demanding the doctor's answer to the question.

Simon went into full stutter mode, as was often the case when pinned down by an angry Mal. "Well… I just assume they…" he seemed to rethink, coming to a new revelation. "I guess I know that wasn't quite the end of the war. So after you surrendered, I'd suppose you were POWs for a little while."

Zoe rubbed her face. The tongue-lashing the doctor was about to get wasn't going to be pretty. Mal had gone dead still.

"We didn't surrender," he said. "Others did that for us without our say-so. We were defeated. There's a fundamental difference."

Simon nodded rapidly, eager to get out from under that frightening stare. "Yes, yes, I can see that."

"So, what is it you think came next. What is it they taught you rich Core planet kids about that time?"

"Um… all right. So… so, the war ended a short time later and you, what, went home, I suppose. I mean, the fighting was over. There was peace. Unification."

Zoe actually moaned out loud, not sure if she was more sorry for Simon, or for Mal, hearing the go-se the Feds had spread. Wash touched her arm, slightly alarmed by her reaction. Inara and Kaylee watched with wide eyes, as did Book and River.

Ice filled Mal's voice. "So, you figure they just told us 'no hard feelings,' gave us a pat on the back and sent us on our way, that it?" Mal's eyes held Simon pinned. The doctor was at a total loss for words, Zoe could see, as he glanced over toward her, imploring for mercy.

She sighed. "We were over two years in an Alliance prison, doctor," she said softly.

It was Jayne who broke the tension with a loud snort. "Man… two years. You guys got my record beat."

Wash shook his head. "Always a treat to hear my wife compare prison terms with you, Jayne."

Even Mal managed to look amused as he returned to his seat at the head of the table. Zoe met his eyes. He gave a shrug of assent so slight that no one else present could have read it. In a quiet, sing-song voice that masked the pain of the words she spoke, Zoe began to tell the tale that, before that moment, only two of them at the table knew.

_"Med ships." _

"Whose colors they flying?"

"Don't matter."

"As many as lay dead in that valley, there were still so many of our wounded yet breathing that the med ships couldn't take them all. Those of us as could still keep to our feet--wounded or not--were taken on transports instead. Prison transports. The sarge and I were searched, and we were handcuffed, and we were shoved in a cell and the door was locked behind us. And that's the first time it came to me clear that the Alliance regarded us not as soldiers, but as criminals. Took Mal a bit longer to reach that conclusion." She flicked a smile. "But he's stubborn."

Across the table she could see Mal, his gaze turned fully inward, not so much hearing her words as seeing the scene, as she, herself, saw it in the times she let herself look.

_The cell was metal--walls, ceiling, floor--and bare. No bed nor bedding, not so much as a bench to sit on. There wasn't properly room for two. They could sit, but not lay down or stretch out. Mal helped ease Zoe down to the floor, wincing in pain but alive. Then he sank down himself across from her. _

"They tossed in some food and water packs. It wasn't rations enough for two, but we'd been so long with nothing at all that it seemed like a feast. Sarge saw to it I had the most of it, and used some of the water to clean my wounds a bit. We could tell when the ship lifted, but then it was nothing for a long time. We couldn't hear what was going on outside the cell, and there was no day or night. The light was always on the same.

"The interrogations started a day or so after we hit space."

_The cell door opened. Two purple bellies stared in coldly. "Out" one of them snapped to Mal. He climbed slowly to his feet, too slowly to please the Feds. One grabbed his arm and jerked him up. Zoe got a glimpse of the guards pulling him off down the hallway before the door slammed shut. For a long time she was alone in the silence. _

"The sarge… Mal… the captain," Zoe stumbled over how to refer to him, caught as she was in the tangle of time and memories, "was one of the higher ranks taken there, commanding so many, having killed so many of theirs, that he was one they were most aiming at with the interrogations."

The doctor turned toward Mal and interjected, "They tortured you?" he asked in a tone partway between shocked and sympathetic.

Mal didn't look up, just shook his head. "No. Just smacked me around a bit. I didn't have any military information worth the telling, and they knew it."

"Then why…?"

Scowling, but not angry, Mal met the doctor's curious gaze. He could feel the eyes of all the others on him too. "Nearly two hundred thousand of the dead on that field were theirs. Their friends. Their comrades. And they were feeling a mite peevish about it. Just wanted to take it out on someone and we were the ones they had on hand. I don't blame 'em for that." He paused, and qualified, "Don't applaud 'em for it neither. I just… I understand it." Mal looked up at Zoe, silently saying she could go on with the telling. A hard part was coming, but these folks were _their _friends and comrades and it might do Zoe some good to get some of this out of her. Sometimes she felt a need to talk about it to the others and he figured it might do her some good speak on it for a bit.

Zoe picked up the story again. "The third time they brought Mal back from the interrogations he was beat near to death."

_The cell door opened and Mal was shoved in. He landed on his knees, bent double with his head to the floor. Coughing and choking. Spitting out blood. His hands were cuffed behind his back, the cuffs tight and his hands twisted in an awkward position with his palms out. The door clanged shut. Zoe reached out toward him. _

"Sarge?"

Coughing, Mal said, "They don't like it when you hit 'em."

Zoe relaxed a touch. If he could make jokes… "Worked that out your own self, didja?" She helped ease him over on his side, his head resting on her leg.

Panting, Mal managed a faint smile. "Yup. Had me an epiphany. Long about the second hour they were beatin' on me it came clear as a bell."

Looking down at him, bruised and bloody, Zoe quietly asked, "Was it worth it?"

Mal seemed to be having trouble focusing on her. "Took out two of the bastard's teeth. Ask me again tomorrow, if I'm still alive." He groaned and passed out in her lap.

"They left him cuffed like that until well into the next day."

"And that is a damnably uncomfortable position to be stuck in," Mal added, "especially when ya got some ribs cracked."

Jayne, as ever going for the besides-the-point, asked, "Couldn't you wriggle your hands down 'round your butt, get your hands in front of you. 'Cause that's a good trick."

The session of eye-rolling that went around the table amused Mal. He shook his head. "No, Jayne. Couldn't. Not the way they had me cuffed. They knew that trick. Hell, they knew every damned trick, and we were still just learning 'em." He gave the doctor a glance. "I think we were in the top three percent of our class." Simon had the grace to blush. Jayne muttered in Chinese some highly expressive, but anatomically improbable, opinions of the 'teachers.'

"Expensive education, though," Zoe added. "There must have been some higher up put a stop to it. There were no more interrogations, and they fed us regular after that, too. It was a few days later they got us to the prison." She trailed off, Mal followed her gaze as it shifted upward to the row of high windows. To the Black. To the stars.

Silence bigger than Serenity filled the room. Mal could tell they all wanted the story to go on, to badger them both with questions, but none wanted to break the silence. It was River, sitting next to the captain on his left, who first spoke.

"It was then you went to shadow."

Mal looked at her sharply. River was staring up at the stars too, her expression distant and absorbed. Zoe shifted uncomfortably and wouldn't meet Mal's eyes.

It was Shepherd Book, sitting on Mal's right, who first broke the silence. He turned a soulful expression on Mal, irritatingly sympathetic. "Shadow," Book said in whisper. His eyes narrowed in question. "You're from Shadow?"

By now Simon apparently perceived the tension well enough to know better than to blurt out any more questions though Zoe could see one formed on his lips. Jayne lacked that finesse. "So, what? You went back home after that?"

Mal stood up without a word and strode out.

Zoe rubbed her eyes tiredly as they heard the doorway of his bunk clank open and then closed. Everyone's attention shifted to her. She sighed. This was why it was usually better to leave the past buried.

"It's not my story to tell," she said, quietly but firmly.

* * *

Mal stood in the center of his bunk, eyes closed, quelling all what was churning around inside him. Best to just go to bed and forget about it. The crew wouldn't bother him about it, knew better than to ask, and in a day or so the puzzled, questioning looks would go away. Hell, they all knew he and Zoe had some dark, nasty history behind them. That weren't no secret. It was just the details they were fuzzy on. 

He paused. Yeah. They did know. They knew and they didn't turn away, or bother him about it. Or get all sappy and sentimental. Accepted and went on. A good bunch. Powerful odd bunch, he'd heard it told. But good. Trusted each other for the most part. Maybe he owed them just a bit more than he gave. Maybe he owed them a bit of his own self, so they knew who and what it was they were dealing with. Maybe. Maybe it'd be good for 'em.

Opening a drawer, he pulled out a bottle of the best whiskey in the 'verse. Well, the best in a reasonable price range. Not bad. Tasted authentic enough, and had a good kick. Triggering the door, he climbed back up the ladder and walked down into the dining room.

The scanty conversation chopped into dead silence as he settled back down in his place at the big table. Opening the bottle he poured a good dollop into his coffee cup.

"I figure if we're gonna have a night of truthsomeness, I need something stronger than this coffee." He shoved the bottle toward the Shepherd.

"I didn't think there was anything stronger than this coffee," Book quipped, pouring a solid dose before handing the bottle on. The quiet laughter filled the room with a warm camaraderie, and eased the uncomfortables away.

There was silence as the whiskey made the rounds. Wash took a bit. Zoe a good bit more. Inara a splash, while Jayne filled his cup to the brim. Just splashes for Simon and Kaylee. When the bottle reached River, she didn't pour any but immediately began scraping off a portion of the label with her thumbnail. Mal noticed it was the Blue Sun logo she was removing. He stared at it, then at her, then at the logo again. Huh. That was a curiosity, that was.

"Sooooo…." Simon said cautiously. Mal stared into his cup, downed a good gulp, and refilled it. "You were talking about the end of the war, and about going home."

Mal took another drink. And a deep breath. He could feel Zoe's presence like she was standing right next to him. Another drink. Took too much to really numb him anymore.

Evenly, steadily, unemotionally. "Weren't no home to go to. Shadow was gone."


	4. Chapter 4:Darkness

Truthsome, Part IV: _Darkness_

"Shadow was gone." It appeared to require repeating. Uncomprehending expressions met him on every face. All except Zoe and the Shepherd. Both had heads down in an almost identical prayerful manner with hands folded. It was a mite unsettling.

"Gone?" Jayne, of course. "How can a planet get gone?"

"Still a rock there, spinning in space. Nothing else." Mal stopped. He'd never said that out loud before. The words rested strangely on his ears. Unreal. _We're all dreaming._

The Shepherd stirred. "I'll tell it, if you want, son" he said softly. Mal shrugged and refilled his cup with whiskey.

"Shadow was the only terraformed moon of a gas giant," Book said. His voice sounded to Mal like a school teacher talking about something from the ancient past, not a place he could see in his head as bright and alive as the day he'd left. "Tide locked so the days and nights were about sixty hours each." He glanced at Mal for confirmation. He nodded... days of light with the shadows of twilight long and deep. Endless nights of stars stretching on and on...

"The sun..." the Shepherd hesitated.

"Go on," Mal murmured.

"It flared. Not quite a nova but incredibly hot for days on end. Burned that world. I recall it said that the oceans reached the boiling point, and the sand on the shore fused into glass. There were," he paused, his analytical tone shaky, "no survivors."

Mal nodded. "No survivors," he repeated. "Except for the entire Alliance garrison, which had pulled out a week earlier."

"My God," Book breathed. Mal felt the Shepherd's shock like a physical thing, like the preacher had just taken a slug between the eyes. "You blame the Alliance for the disaster. You think they caused it. Destroyed your home world."

Mal stared hard into the Shepherd's stunned face. "No, Shepherd," he said coldly, his words carefully and measuredly enunciated. "I honestly do not believe the Alliance caused it. I believe it was a natural disaster." He locked eyes with the Shepherd. "An act of God." Let the Shepherd work on that for a while. Turning away, Mal drained his cup, refilled it and took another gulp. He turned back to the Shepherd. The preacher's expression would have struck him funny at any other time.

"I do, however, think the Alliance saw it coming. Pulled their people out. Left mine there to burn."

The stirring around the table was audible. Somehow Mal could read each of their expressions without even looking up at them. And he didn't--couldn't--quite meet their eyes just now. Inara would be looking all doe-eyed and sad, like she was gonna cry on his behalf. Kaylee _would_ be crying, those little tears that always tried to rip a man's heart out of him running down her face. Wash just looking shocked and full of the not-funnies. There seemed to be an awful lot Zoe hadn't told him. Probably too busy with all the humping to chit-chat.

Simon, shocked and more than a bit disbelieving. That boy thought he knew so damn much that anything he didn't know just couldn't be quite real. And, sure enough, it was Simon who first spoke up.

"How is it we never heard about this? A whole world, an entire colony wiped out like that?"

Zoe took up the tale. "It was as the war was ending, in the time after Serenity. The news was all of the war. The last battles. The last conquests. The last stands. The last defeats--defeats to us. Glorious victories to them. The news about Shadow was reported. It just... got lost, didn't make the headlines. Wasn't big news to the Alliance."

"But, why?"

Mal shrugged. "There were millions dead on dozens of worlds. Twenty thousand or so settlers dead just weren't much of a thing. And Shadow was one of the first worlds to revolt, and one of the first suppressed. Half the population had already gone to war, or been exiled or killed. Twenty thousand more dead Independents is all it was... Just didn't mean a damn thing. None of it means a damn thing." He fell silent, concentrating on drinking.

"When did you hear about it?" Shepherd Book asked.

Zoe answered as Mal didn't appear to be up to talking any more for a bit. It had taken years before he spoke about Shadow at all, and then it was only rare little comments about the before time, about the ranch or the land or the stock. Home that was.

"We'd hadn't been in the prison long," she said. "At first it didn't seem too bad there. We got to be clean for the first time in ages, and they treated our hurts, and fed us. And no one was shooting at us. Well, mostly. As long as we obeyed their rules and didn't say or do anything they didn't like. We were just so numb. In shock. I still recollect that time like it was a strange dream. Didn't really notice how completely our freedom had been snatched away and those that done it were our keepers.

"News we got was censored, of course, all if it going on about the mighty Alliance and their victories. Would like to say they were exaggerating, but they weren't. They were annihilating our people on every front. We heard about what happened to Shadow a couple days after U Day, from a news sheet weeks old. It had happened while we were still at Serenity."

_Mal read the short column again and again, expecting each time that the words would be different. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He looked up at Zoe standing over him. _

"_I'm sorry, sir," she said, her tone distant, the words a mere formality. Her expression was calculating, gauging his reaction. Would he hold or would he break? Maybe she could be sorry for the family he'd lost later, sorry for the ever more bodies of the dead piling higher and higher until it didn't seem there could be any more. Ashes to ashes. Only Mal mattered right now. _

_Sighing, he said, "I'm all right, Zoe. You can stop fretting over me" He tossed the news sheet aside and rubbed his face. "I'm just tired. I never expected I'd make it back there alive no how, but I always thought it would be there waiting if I ever did."_

_Mal lay back down on his bunk, arm flung over his face. Zoe watched him a minute longer. No tears. No anger. No nothing. Shock and numbness. Loss. Loss. Everything lost. His face registered complete and utter defeat._

_Zoe slowly turned away, returning unsteadily to her own bunk, closing her eyes. She felt poorly. One of the endless string of sicknesses that went around the crowded prison. She had her own memories of the ranch on Shadow and the folks on it, when they landed there for trade. It had been a fine place. Shiny. _

_A hand sliding up her thigh startled her. Mal? If he needed her like that, today of all days, she certainly wouldn't refuse him. But the touch rapidly turned rough. Zoe's eyes snapped open to see a hwoo-dahn Fed groping her. _

_In a flash the guard was off her, slammed into the wall, Mal's fingers wrapped around his throat. Again and again Mal bashed the guard's head into the concrete wall. In Mal's eyes Zoe saw an entirely new thing--murder. She'd seen him kill more times than she could count, but she'd never seen this before. Launching herself at his back, Zoe pulled Mal off the guard. _

_The clatter of Alliance slung gear chilled her. A half-dozen Feds ran in, billyclubs in hand. Zoe backed away with her hands up. Mal held his ground defiantly, daring to take on them all. They grinned and raised their clubs, but the senior of them mercifully dropped him with a burst from a sonic rifle. Mal slumped to the floor and surrendered to the darkness._

"Did you kill him? The guard?" Simon asked.

Mal shook his head. "Nah. I just damaged that one a bit. Would have killed him if Zoe hadn't stopped me--right smack dab in front of all the security cameras. Getting caught killing a guard earned you a hanging," He chuckled, not even remotely a humorous sound. "Earned a few hangings, by and by. But not so many as Zoe. Never could step as quiet as her." Zoe raised her eyes to meet his. Simultaneously they lifted their cups in a silent toast. Only when he lowered his cup and looked around did Mal notice how unaccountably creepified the others at the table appeared. Except Jayne, who looked like he was hearing a right funny story.

"What did they do to you?"

"A sound thrashing, then tossed me in the Hole."

"What's that?"

Mal waved his hand dismissively. "Just like it sounds. A hole." He cleared his throat and took another drink. It didn't numb near enough. "Punishment cell. Under the prison. Not half the size of this table. Cold. Filthy. Dark. Pitch dark. Not a shred of light in there. And not much air pumped in so you always felt kinda light-headed and sick. And dead quiet. Only sound was the sound of your own breathing. And after a while you couldn't hear that anymore. Quiet as a grave. 'Bout as close to being buried alive as you can get."

He fell still.

A touch on his hand made Mal jump. River had crept her hand near to his. She rested two fingers lightly on the back of his hand. The girl's gaze turned deep inwards.

"Darkness," she said, tilting her head as if listening to something. "Staring into the darkness. The place of nothing. Becoming the nothing..."

_Staring into the darkness. Endless time. Time without measure. Darkness filed with ghosts. Bleeding. Rotting. Dust. Burned. Crisping blackness. Ashes. In the darkness, a place of nothing. No shadows. No blood. Just nothing. He embraced the nothing, drew it closer. Trying to become it._

Mal grasped her hand and moved it firmly back toward her. River looked at him, startled and puzzled. "Stay outta my mind, little girl. It ain't a fitting place for a youngun." And yet he left his hand resting over hers for a minute more, looking into her eyes, wondering what it was he was seeing there, what she was seeing when he looked back. He released her hand and eased his away.

When he spoke it was toward River. "That's what it was. Staring into the darkness for endless time. Into the nothing. Worked out a few things. Not necessarily for the good"

Mal shook himself, stepping back from the memory, from the darkness, to Serenity's dining room, filled with people he cared about, people who cared about him. Warm light. Outside, the stars. The nothing pushed back a ways.

"I'm not even rightly sure how long it was..."

"Three months," Zoe inserted quickly. Tersely. "Eighty-seven days."

Mal nodded slowly. "The night they finally let me out of there, I was laying in my bunk, staring up. There were these little high windows all around. Couldn't see nothing out of them but a tiny slice of sky. So I was laying there staring at that slice of the stars out in the Black, thinking that was the one thing that was still there, the one thing they couldn't take. And I wasn't sure it was enough.

"Then Zoe come over to my bed. And she climbed in and she wrapped herself all around me. Tight. Not a word passed between us. Just holding, the whole night long. Feeling her breath on my neck and her body all around me. And I knew that there was one being in the 'verse that still mattered."

He thoughtfully embraced the memory. "Only time we ever spent a night together that way."

Mal looked up at Wash. "No sex," he said, with a hint of a smile. Judging from Wash's expression, at that very moment he wouldn't have minded if there had been.

"From that day to this, there's never been a word spoken about it between us."


	5. Chapter 5: Freedom

Truthsome, Part V: _Freedom_

_Mal was different after the time in solitary, Zoe could see. She supposed she was too. She'd always been regarded as the stone cold one of the two, while Mal had taken insidious delight in the dangers they faced, meeting them all with good cheer and unswerving faith--faith that it would all work out well, faith that they'd win, faith in God... Now he never smiled and that darkly murderous expression crossed his face every time he looked at one of the Alliance guards. _

_When some of the other prisoners held a prayer meeting or reading, they both pointedly moved off toward the farthest corners of the prison. She hadn't seen Mal pray since the last battle at Serenity Valley, and while she'd never been as devote as he was, she'd given it up too during the eighty-seven days he'd been locked away in the dark. God had abandoned them on all fronts. He was still a believer--she knew that--but now he rejected God. It was just the two of them now._

Zoe didn't tell that part of the story aloud. Neither did Mal. It was still a thing that was just theirs--hers and Mal's alone, shared but unspoken between the two of them.

With Wash kneading her hand comfortingly, or perhaps possessively, Zoe watched her other man, Mal. He'd achieved a sufficient level of intoxication, and appeared to realize it. He nudged the bottle away with an inch still in the bottom.

"After that the Alliance started in on our 'education'," Zoe said. Mal looked up at her and grinned. It was a vaguely frightening grin.

"Yeah. Still using their teachings."

"I'm not following you," Simon said, then appeared to achieve a revelation. "Oh. I understand. Alliance reeducation."

"They were reeducating us, all right, just not like you're thinking." Mal smiled at him. "Crime, doctor. The Feds are the ones who learned us crime."

Zoe nodded. "All the tricks of the trade right there in that prison. Learned how to open locks, spoof security systems, bypass electronics, sneak about, take anything that wasn't nailed down, lie with a straight face... the works. "

"Huh," Simon was working on that. "I guess I'd always just figured you'd been... I mean, before the war, that you both had... that you had a history of that sort of thing... that... that..."

Goodness, but he could stumble his way into a trap quickly, Zoe thought. She chuckled. "Hell, no, doctor. Cap'n was a church-goin' choir boy back the..." She chopped the sentence off abruptly. Too far. She refused to look over at Mal though she could feel his eyes burning into her. Ai ya good stumble of her own. Maybe she'd had too much to drink.

Every head at the table turned toward Mal. He stared downward at the table, ignoring them, contemplating finishing off that last inch of whiskey. He could feel the gorram preacher's interest throttle into full burn.

"Well..." Book drew out the word. "We'll be riding on back to that little comment one of these days."

Mal gave him a black look. "Don't bet on it."

He sat up and leaned back. "But, yeah. It was the Alliance who learned us our wicked and nefarious ways. Then gave us cause to use the learning when they finally released us."

"It was on U Day we were released," Zoe said. "Supposed to be some sort of good will gesture or some such. Make us love 'em. Mostly they were just tired of feeding us. The fun had worn out of hitting us, and they hadn't quite managed to work their way up to mass executions, so they let us go."

"We could have got out sooner," Mal said. "But we'd'a had to swear to some tamada oaths pledging our undying loyalty to the all mighty Alliance. Say in writing that we were wrong to ever have been Independents in the first place, and that we'd never take up arms against the Alliance again. Don't guess I need to say we didn't do that."

Zoe nodded. "So they put us out with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a long list of jobs we weren't allowed to take, places we weren't allowed to go, things we weren't allowed to do."

"Only the most piss-poor jobs allowed us. Not that anyone would hire an Independent, even if the job was on the allowed list."

"And we had to check in every week, and register our address, if we ever got one, and on and on and on. "

"Under their gorram heel."

"What did you do? How did you live?" Simon asked.

"Oh, we had some money," Zoe said.

"But I thought you said..."

Mal interrupted. "I lifted the commandant's wallet on the way out."

Laughter rippled around the table.

Glad, and more than a mite relieved, that the conversation had taken a lighter turn, Zoe said, "First thing I wanted to do was find a nice, comfortable place where we could have some real food--they'd fed us the same damn thing every day for two straight years--and a long, hot bath. But, Mal wanted to stop off at a bar and have a quiet drink first."

A hoot burst from Kaylee. She clamped her hand to her mouth but couldn't stifle the laughter. "On an Alliance world? On U Day?"

Suddenly Wash got it too. "Getting my wife into trouble right away."

Mal sputtered. "She wasn't your wife. And she didn't get in no trouble."

Zoe laughed softly. "No, I didn't. But our first night of freedom in over two years Mal spent in jail."

"I didn't start it," he said sullenly. "Anyhow, after that it was beg, borrow, or steal to stay alive. We wouldn't beg and couldn't borrow. So..." He looked pointedly at Inara. "_Petty_ theft, at first. Pick pocketing and the like. Living in the lowest backwater slums of the 'verse, among some real choice people. Fellas like Badger looked kinda highfalutin by comparison. First big job we ever pulled was an Alliance payroll meant for the prison guards' unit. That was shiny."

Mal leaned back and sighed, feeling sort of contented, though he wasn't sure why. "So here we are. And I think I'm 'bout done in for the night." He stood and headed toward the passageway to the Bridge, giving Kaylee's hair a gently tousle on the way by.

Zoe followed a moment later, positioning herself in the passageway, pleasantly wishing a good night to the others as they headed for the stairs. Mostly she aimed to head off any who might be wanting a private word with the captain. She wasn't going to allow it.

Sure enough, Shepherd Book headed her way. "Good night, preacher," she said firmly, her feet spread wide, hands on her hips. Not many dared tackle her when she stood in that pose, armed or unarmed.

"I just thought I might..." he said, gesturing toward the Bridge.

"Not tonight," she said in her brooks-no-argument voice. She deflected Inara the same way. The rest headed to their bunks quietly, except Jayne who snatched up the whiskey bottle and headed for the cargo bay.

Her husband passed by her, running his hand over her bottom quizzically. She smiled gently at him. "I'll be down in a few minutes, dear," she said. He understood, she knew, she needed a few minutes with Mal.

When the ship had settled into stillness, Zoe stepped quietly onto the Bridge. Mal stood, as she expected, gazing out into the Black. It was the place of freedom for him, and for her too, for that matter. Mal didn't look around as she came to stand beside him, near but not touching.

"You know," he said, still looking out at the stars, "I don't dwell on all that stuff we were talking about. Don't lay in the dark and worry at it or nothing like that."

"I know."

"It's just... uh... sometimes the damnedest thing will call it to mind, just out of the clear blue."

Zoe nodded. "Sometimes for me it's a sound or a smell..."

He laughed with a hint of bitterness. "Oh, this was a whole lot more specific. It was them sumbitches gonna shove me in that cell with my hands still cuffed behind me." He glanced over at her and twitched a smile. "I really hate the Feds."

With a chuckle, Zoe said, "So I've suspected."

He studied her face. "Sometimes I think you hate them more."

"Sometimes I do. There was a certain eighty-seven days when I don't think a soul in the 'verse could have hated them more--including you. But then I'm with Wash and I just don't feel the need to hate 'em quite so much. Can't explain it. He just makes me feel... shiny."

"Yeah? Maybe I should start sleeping with Wash too. You tell him we worked that out. Best for everyone all the way around," Mal said.

"Oh, I don't wanna go opening that whole can of worms again. Start him fretting on all this 'burning sexual tension'. For a guy with the terminal funnies, he's sometimes lacking in a sense of humor." They both chuckled.

After a moment, Mal asked, "You told Simon about Serenity Valley?"

"I did. Long time ago, when he first came on board."

"How come?"

Zoe looked at Mal and grinned. "I wanted him to stop saying stupid things so you'd stop hitting him."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Huh. Well, at least I've stopped hitting him."

Mal and Zoe both turned back to the stars, to the unhindered, unrestricted Black. Zoe reached up and rested her hand on Mal's shoulder. He glanced over at her, slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. A rare moment.

"Still flyin'?" she asked.

"Still flyin'," he said.


	6. Chapter 6: Interim

Truthsome: Interim--the crew reacts to the events of "Truthsome"

**_Mal & Zoe_**

"Still flyin," Mal repeated with satisfaction. In unison they dropped their arms, stepping apart. The warm, fuzzy moment was over. Back to business "But we won't be for long unless we get another job, and right quick."

"Something nice and easy, I hope," Zoe said.

"_This _job was supposed to be nice and easy and look how it turned out." Mal shook his head. "Nope. I got something different in mind."

"And what's that, sir?"

"Blue Sun," Mal said. In response to her puzzled look, he explained. "Got the notion from River..."

"Oh, there's a good source."

"...and from those Feds who arrested me. Said Blue Sun contracts with the Alliance. That makes them good as government in my book. No qualms about snatching from 'em."

Zoe scowled. "What are you planning to steal? Canned goods? Small appliances? Souvenir t-shirts?"

"Payroll. They store the hard currency payroll for all their factories in three whole systems in one place."

"And where's that?"

Mal grinned. "The old prison. Where you and I spent those long and fun-filled years learning every gorram inch of the place."

Zoe opened her mouth to object, then Mal saw her eyes take on a calculating look. Good. Doin' the math.

"How drunk are you, sir?" she asked.

Muttering a string of Chinese expressively describing her lack of imagination, Mal added, "It would be a huge score."

"You're crazy."

"Yeah," Mal chuckled. "After tonight I don't think anyone on this boat doubts that. Come on. We could do it."

Zoe shook her head in dismay. "You almost got nailed by the Feds tonight on a smuggling charge that would get you locked up for the next twenty years. You wanna go for life now?"

"Come on, Zoe. Think about it," Mal said. He sat down it the co-pilot's seat, looking up at her intently, giving her his best charmingly persuasive look. "What were our best jobs? Huh? The Alliance hospital on Ariel, and the Lassiter..."

"Which we have yet to fence."

"...and both went off without a hitch. Well, near enough. Better than most of the small jobs we've done. Look at tonight--we lost the cargo, the payment, our contact, and would be more than a little unwelcome back on that world. You _know _we can take this place. What do you say?" He stared at her intently.

"Well... Maybe..."

"Yes! We're gonna take the biggest corporation in the 'verse."

**_Simon_**

The man's psychotic, Simon thought as he led River down to the passenger dorm. How could he not be? No wonder the ship was named _Serenity_. What an enormous life-changing event that time was for him--defining and redefining his entire life and existence. Not only the horrific battle, the defeat, loss of all those fellow soldiers in ghastly circumstances, but to learn later that at that very time his family, his home--the very anchor of his 'verse--was being seared into nothingness. _You never leave Serenity,_ Zoe had said. How very, frighteningly, true that simple statement was.

Eighty-seven days in sensory deprivation solitary... Lao-tyen boo. Simon thought he recalled from his psych reading that twenty-seven days was regarded as the limit of human psychological endurance in those circumstances. The captain had been locked in the dark over three times that long. And worse, that time tagged onto the most traumatic events in his life--the most traumatic events Simon could imagine.

No wonder the man could withstand torture to the point of death. What was mere physical torment to someone who had withstood the mental torment he already had? The surprise wasn't that Mal was crazy, the wonder was that he was as sane as he was.

Looking at River as he hugged her and wished her a good night, it occurred to Simon that, just perhaps, that was why the captain had allowed he and River to stay on _Serenity_--not because he needed a medic, or admired Simon's courage for getting River out of the academy, or liked them, or even because he felt sorry for River... It was because Mal understood what had been done to River even without knowing the medical details. Understood and would stand between River and those who did it to her, even at considerable peril and risk to himself.

Simon gazed thoughtfully upward in the direction of the crew quarters. Where else but with a tormented psychotic could they have found refuge?

**_Jayne_**

Jayne sat down on his weight bench, taking a throat-burning slug of whiskey. Knew Mal was nuts. Big surprise. All that time with Zoe and never got any play with her…freakin' lunacy. Locked up together in close quarters, probably all dirty and sweaty. And chains were involved… ooooh. Man, Zoe... how hot was that picturing her climbing in his bed--Jayne's not Mal's--wrapping those muscular, violent, limbs around... In prison, no less... ooooh...

He took another slug out of the whiskey bottle. Not bad. He lay back and grabbed hold of the weights.

**_Kaylee_**

Kaylee smiled shyly at Zoe as she passed her on the way to her bunk, but she avoided looking her in the eye. She wanted to go onto the Bridge where she could see the captain standing, staring out at the stars, but didn't think it was the best idea. Like as not he'd end up comforting her, not the other way around. Their stories were so sad, Cap'n's and Zoe's. It just made Kaylee's heart hurt to think on it. Golly, she'd known they'd had some hard times together. Such a wonderment they'd managed to stay the sweet, kind people they were. Oh, sure, Cap'n kinda liked to make out like he was all mean and hard, but Kaylee knew him better. Yeah, he had a little trouble believing in other people, but Kaylee had always seen him for what he was, a sentimental sweetie.

Wuo de ma, poor captain and Zoe... No wonder they were so close, They'd been through so much together, taking care of each other, doing for each other. Kaylee knew they must love each other a whole lot, even though neither one of them would ever say such a thing.

The images of the horrible things that had happened to Cap'n and Zoe kept Kaylee from sleeping. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, Kaylee decided she really needed to spend some time with _Serenity_. Triggering her door, she quietly climbed the ladder. Glancing toward the Bridge, Kaylee stopped, surprised to see Cap'n and Zoe standing with their arms around each other. She glanced sharply to the door to Wash's bunk. It was closed. Quiet as she could be, Kaylee hurried down the passageway toward the engine room. Settling into her hammock near _Serenity's_ heart, Kaylee sniffled a little and pondered what she'd seen. She knew how absolutely close Cap'n and Zoe were, like they could read each other's minds, but she'd never really noticed until this very minute how they seldom touched each other, or showed any real affection. Why, now that she thought on it, she was the only one on the ship that the Cap'n really ever touched and Kaylee was the one who had started that, working at him until he relaxed to the notion. Kaylee smiled to remember how Cap'n had jumped the first time she'd given him a sound hug and kiss. Now he did the same with her. Of course, that was all sweet and brotherly. She was his mei-mei.

**_Inara_**

A twinge of jealousy surprised Inara as Zoe very unsubtly kept her from going to Mal. She'd never thought she could be jealous of the relationship between Mal and Zoe. They had so much history together, had done so many things together, had shared so much of each other in ways she would never know. Zoe would always know Mal and understand his mysteries in a way Inara would ever be shut out from. How did Wash bear it? Knowing his wife shared a relationship so intense and deep with another man? And how did Zoe balance two men, each of whom were very much husbands to her but in such different regards?

They'd never had sex with each. Inara couldn't decide if she was surprised by that or not. Mal certainly was incredibly prudish about sex, but from what she'd seen of Zoe and Wash, Zoe just as certainly was not. Perhaps that was Wash's influence. How was it to have a relationship so extremely close, as did Mal and Zoe, that sex could not add any additional level of closeness? For a Companion, schooled in sex as a tool of both closeness and distance, it was something of a revelation. Then she realized that she was building a sort of sexless relationship with Mal, as well. It surprised her to think that--minus the guns, shooting, and thieving, of course. Well, mostly without those elements, and with a great deal more bickering--Zoe tended to argue with Mal without actually arguing. Zoe could squeeze more of a "hell no" into a "yes sir" than anyone Inara had ever seen.

Inara reached the posh luxury of her shuttle, seeing it anew in light of what she'd learned of Mal's past experiences. How many nights had he spent on the hard ground, or the floor of a cell, while she'd never known a single one without the comfort of a soft bed and plush coverings? How could she ever really know Mal? Even if he gave her every single page of the book of his life, instead of scattered fragments? Their lives were galaxies apart. So utterly different in every possible way. The only thing they shared was a thorough understanding of loss... and that was her mystery to hide.

They'd never had sex with each. Inara couldn't stop a trace of a smile from crossing her lips.

**_Shepherd Book_**

"I just thought I might..." Shepherd Book said to Zoe as she stood in an unambiguous she-wolf pose, guarding her captain.

"Not tonight," she said and he knew there would be no dissuading her.

Book returned to his room, pondering all the things he'd learned this night. His first impulse had been to want to offer spiritual comfort, but as he considered it, he realized Zoe was correct. The last thing Mal needed was a forthright reminding of yet another thing he'd lost--his loss of faith.

Hmmm... while Mal had wanted to know Book's hidden past, the captain had quite the untold background of his own. Book had seen the lay of the land early on as regarded Serenity Valley, and had more than a good idea of what Mal and Zoe must have gone through, both there and in the aftermath, but to learn Mal had been from Shadow... that had been a shock. How much could one man endure in a single lifetime? No wonder he'd turned his back on God--how clearly it must have seemed that God had turned his back on Mal. And how strangely reversed Mal's and Book's paths were.

The captain had never spoken of his family, Book realized. Not even tonight when speaking of the destruction of his home, there'd been no words on the family who must have been lost there. Those on _Serenity_ were his family now, that was clear, a family bound not by blood but by stronger bonds… well, yes by _blood_, literally, but not by kinship. Loyalty and trust were the bonds that bound them. Book felt a shiver of guilt. Mal had given him his trust time and again, even with the unanswered questions still hanging between them.

Family… the captain called Kaylee his 'little sister', and had taken on the role of protector of River. A sudden thought occurred to Book. He stood, intending to seek out Zoe, or Mal, to ask. Had the captain had a sister? Or--Book sat back down abruptly, realizing he couldn't probe this area, not yet--had he had a daughter?

**_River_**

River rocked back and forth on her bed, whimpering. No, no, no. Not the blue. Not the blue. A million things, and the little ends of the roots go everywhere. All the little blue things but no one says it because, because sometimes they're afraid. And then they come... they're the ones that reach in and do it. She didn't want them reaching into daddy, hunting and hurting. Not the blue. Not the blue. She had warned him.

The story continues in the sequel: "Blue Sun Job"...


End file.
